Riding with Dean Winchester
by GhostWriter030791
Summary: A young girl buys a 1967 Chevy Impala...not knowing what exactly that means. Based on the television show Supernatural, inspired by the song "Private Malone".


Riding with Dean Winchester

Written by: Merri Roche'

Note: Based on characters and plot lines from the television show _Supernatural_. Inspired by the song "Private Malone" by David Ball.

Song can be found here: watch?v=gh1m0eC1004

… _an ad that said: "Old Chevy" somehow caught my eye. The lady didn't know the year, or even if it ran, but I had that thousand dollars in my hand…_

Anna glanced up from the classifieds she was looking at, doubled checked the address, and frowned slightly.

The numbers matched; there was no doubt that the house she was standing in front of was where she was supposed to be.

Anna took a deep breath, before forcing herself to march up the front walkway.

The house itself looked obviously neglected, with a front porch that was sagging slightly and creaked ominously when she carefully stepped on them, peeling pain that might have been white or blue at one point, but now just looked like a dirty brown color, and dirty windows covered with ratty curtains.

Anna stood carefully on the old porch before knocking on the old wood door.

The door opened almost immediately. "Can I help you?"

Whatever Anna had been expecting, a young, African American woman, hair pulled back neatly from her face, wearing nice jeans, a pink blouse, and converse was definitely not it. Anna stopped for a moment, before smiling and holding out her hand.

"My name is Anna. I'm here about the car."

The woman took her hand. "Charlotte. Please, follow me."

Anna stepped into the old house, the inside just as beat up as the interior, and followed Charlotte down the hallway.

"Excuse the mess," Charlotte said, leading Anna out the back door and across the yard to an old shed. "I'm still kind of sorting through things."

"Have you, uh, lived here long?" she asked, looking around. The tree next to the shed had a sort of design carved into the tree trunk, worn away with age, but what looked like a star in a circle.

Charlotte shook her head. "No. This was a property my grandmother owned, and when she died, I ended up with it. I'm just now getting around to sorting through everything."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Charlotte smiled as she unlocked the shed door. "Thank you, but it's alright. It's been a while, and it wasn't a surprise." The locked clicked open and fell to the ground. Anna picked it and handed it to the young woman. "She'd been sick for a long time."

Anna watched patiently as Charlotte undid the chain on the door, and the two woman pulled open the doors of the old shed with a loud screech.

"Fair warning, I don't know anything about this car." She laughed softly. "I don't even know if it runs."

Anna smiled, and headed for the back of the shed. "Lucky for you, I know a thing or two about cars."

"You like old cars?"

Anna flicked her dirty blonde braid over her shoulder with a smirk. "I like basically anything that's got wheels, an engine, and has the potential to be really loud and really fast."

… _it was way back in the corner of this old ramshackle barn, thirty years of dust and dirt on that green army tarp. When I pulled the cover off, it took away my breath…_

Charlotte watched quietly as Anna walked over to the car, confidence in every bow legged step she took. She was positive she'd never met the young woman before, but something about her seemed…familiar somehow.

Anna pulled off the dirty, grimy tarp off the car with a flourish, revealing the slightly dusty car underneath.

Anna's breath caught in her throat as she revealed the car, and she reached out carefully to lay her hand gently on the hood.

Charlotte watched all this from the doorway as Anna slowly walked around the car. While Charlotte didn't know anything about cars, or even what kind of car was currently sitting in front of her, she had to admit, the big black monster of a machine seemed oddly suited for the small, delicate girl in biker boots and jeans.

Anna looked up. "Some 'old Chevy', huh?"

Charlotte leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms. "Is it not?"

Anna walked around to the driver's side and pulled open the door with a creak. "This is a 1967 Chevy Impala. V8 engine with 427 CID and 385 horsepower. Bench seats that…" she slid into the driver's side, leaning back slightly "…I'm pretty sure recline. Tape deck and an automatic transmission." She put her hands gently on the steering wheel, flexing her hands as she settled in.

Charlotte could see how much Anna liked the car. She quietly handed over the keys, and listened as Anna turned the engine over.

A week ago, when Charlotte had turned the engine over to see if it would even start, it had sputtered and grumbled at her.

It was odd, but the way the engine quietly rumbled for Anna…

"Beautiful," Anna whispered reverently to the dashboard, swiping her fingers through the dust.

…it was almost like the _car_ approved of the young woman.

Anna let the car idle for a moment, before turning it off. She sighed and leaned back in the seat before getting out of the car. She shut the door and patted the hood for a moment before handing Charlotte the keys.

"There's no way you're only asking for a thousand."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "You don't like it?"

Anna glanced wistfully at the car. "I love it." She turned back. "But I only have a grand to spend. This car easily sold for twenty-two hundred or more when it was new. Now? A little bit of work and you could easily get twenty-five grand for this car. Maybe more." Jingling the keys, Anna continued to hold them out to Charlotte. "I can't afford this car."

Charlotte didn't take the keys. "Can you fix it?"

Anna nodded. "I run the front office of a garage just outside of town. I can do the work, and if I can't, I know people who can."

Charlotte nodded. "If you've got the thousand dollars, the car is yours."

Anna blinked. "I don't think you heard me."

Charlotte smiled. "I heard you. I also know that to get more I'd have to go online, find someone to fix it, call dealers, and haggle prices…basically go out of my way to deal with something I really don't care that much about.." She reached out and closed Anna's hand around the keys. "Besides, I can see how much you want it."

… _I felt a little guilty as I counted out the bills, but what a thrill I got as I sat behind the wheel…_

Anna wasn't proud about how she didn't really argue with Charlotte about the price of the vehicle, but as she sat in the driver's seat waiting for the tow truck to haul it back to the garage so it could be looked over, she really couldn't seem to care.

Hands on the wheel, she stared out the windshield, slim fingers flexing in the deeper grooves already there. She'd looked around a little bit, noting black leather and the relatively clean interior; whoever had owned the car before her had clearly cared for the vehicle.

A tap on the window startled her slightly, and she turned quickly to see Charlotte standing next to the car.

"Tow truck is here."

Anna smiled. "Great!"

As she got out and headed down the walk to great Craig, she stopped when she realized Charlotte wasn't following. She turned to see Charlotte staring at the car with a frown on her face.

"Seller's remorse?" Anna asked nervously. Just because she'd felt a little guilty paying only a grand for the car, that didn't mean she didn't want to give it up.

Charlotte turned around and smiled. "No. It's just, this is going to sound crazy."

Anna shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "Try me."

Charlotte just shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"What feeling?"

Charlotte turned to walk down the walkway with her. "I think you were meant to have this car."

Anna just stopped to stare at Charlotte as she walked away.

… _I opened up the glove box, and that's when I found the note…_

After towing the Impala back to the garage, Anna began digging through the vehicle. Opening the glove compartment, there wasn't anything but a thin, folded up piece of what looked like hotel stationary:

" _My name is Dean. If you're reading this, then I didn't make it home._

 _This car has been everything to me and my brother for so long, I can't really imagine it belonging to someone who isn't us. We never really had a roof and four walls-the car has always been home. There's a little army man in the ash tray in the back seat that my brother stuck there when we were little, and there are Legos in the vents that I remember shoving in there as a kid; heat comes on, and that's the rattling sound._

 _She's a good solid car, and if you treat her right she'll look after you too. Take her, make her your own, but DON'T DOUCHE HER UP! I swear, you play some sort of anemic, alternative pop music through those badass speakers, add racing stripes or something stupid, I will haunt your ass._

 _My brother said once, 'For every dream that shatters, another one comes true'. I don't know if that's true, but this car was once my dream, and now she belongs to you._

 _Take your new dream and roll with her."_

Anna leaned back in the seat, holding the note in her hand, staring at the wall in front of her. It took a moment, but she finally felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see Jeff standing and staring at her.

Taking a deep breath, she pocketed the note, and crawled out of the car.

"So Jeff, tell me what we need to do to get my new baby rolling like new."

… _it didn't take me long at all, I had her running good. I loved to hear those horses thunder underneath her hood. I had her shining like a diamond…_

The car itself had been in fairly good shape, only taking a little over two weeks to get up and running properly. Most of what was wrong with her was that she hadn't been used in several years. Anna wasn't sure when exactly she'd been put in that shed, but the date on the note was 2016, so it had to have been at least since then.

The day the Impala was back to a hundred percent, Anna took her out down some of the lesser known and back roads of Kansas, just letting her horses run. The sound of the engine purring made her smile like nothing had in a long time.

It was like the Impala had been waiting to run again, and Anna was only too happy to oblige.

… _the buttons on the radio didn't seem to work quite right…_

There was only one problem with the car that neither she nor any of her friends could fix, not even Danny, who was a wiz with electronics.

The buttons on the radio didn't work right.

It wasn't like they didn't work at all, it was just that they only wanted to play classic rock stations, or, if Anna begged, old country music. Especially late at night though, when Anna took her out and let her run the old roads the long way home, the radio would pick up old rock stations clear as a bell.

Sometimes she would think about the note, and the comment about 'anemic, alternative pop music' and would smile. The one time she'd tried to put an iPod dock in the stereo, it had shorted out within ten minutes.

Jeff and Danny and Mack had just shook their heads, fiddled with the electrics, offered to put in a new radio, and finally given up.

Taylor Swift and Beyoncé didn't really fit the car anyway. It was AC/DC and Metallica all the way.

Sometimes it would even let her play Bon Jovi.

Sometimes. On occasion.

… _I'd get the feeling sometimes if I turned real quick I'd see, a soldier riding shotgun in the seat right next to me…_

There was one thing Anna didn't tell her friends.

Sometimes, driving alone down the road, Bad Company blaring like some kind of anthem through the speakers, Anna was sure there was someone in the car with her.

It was almost like, if she turned quickly she'd see him, Dean, riding shotgun, tapping out the beat on the open window sill.

Actually, Anna wasn't sure she hadn't seen him. There were times, like an almost hazy mirage, she could see in her mind's eye, a young guy in his thirties, with dirty blonde hair, facial scruff, and green eyes, sometimes leaning against the car, sometimes grinning in the passenger seat.

He always had on a plaid over shirt over a tee-shirt, blue jeans, and sometimes a leather jacket.

She never said anything to her friends. It was weird. Even for them.

Besides, if it was Dean, he didn't do anything but keep her company, and there were times she welcomed the comforting presence next to her.

… _one night it was raining hard, I took a turn too fast. I still don't remember much about that fiery crash. Someone said they thought they saw a soldier pull me out. I didn't get his name, but I know without a doubt…_

Anna knew the second she went into the wet turn that she wasn't going to make it.

She'd swerved to avoid a deer that was standing in the middle of the road, made it around it and gone into the corner.

She would have made it if she'd been a little bit slower, but as it was, she'd been going too fast.

The car flipped on the unfamiliar road, rolling down a hill and hitting a tree. Anna hit her head against the driver's side window, and the only thing she knew then was black.

When she woke up, it was to her Uncle's worried face.

He stared at her, face clearly worried.

"Anna." He said, his rough graveling voice soothing her frayed nerves.

Anna smiled up at him, trying to reassure him. "I'm okay."

His blue eyes pierced her own green ones, showing just how much he didn't believe her. "Sure you are. You flipped your car. What were you thinking?"

"Uh…" Anna frowned, the pain from the headache she had suddenly hitting her all at once, along with all the other aches and bruises on her body. "Don't hit the deer, you'll mess up the car?"

Her Uncle ran his fingers through his dark hair, and rearranged his customary trench coat.

"Pretty sure we'd rather have you than your car or the deer, kiddo."

Anna pressed back further into the pillows. "Speaking of, they haul my baby out of the mud yet?"

"It's been three days." Her Uncle replied. "They towed it back to the garage. Jeff tells me that it's completely totaled. The frame is a pretzel, and there's not really anything left to fix."

"I can fix anything, you know that," she said with a tired smile.

He laid a hand gently on her arm, and she felt herself immediately relax, her body starting to feel better. She used to joke with her Uncle when she was a kid and would scrape up her knees that he was some sort of healer, or maybe even an angel, since his touch would always immediately make her feel better, no matter if it was a bruised body, or a bruised heart.

He would just smile, give her a hug, and send her on her way.

The first step in healing had always been the sight of her Uncle, waiting patiently for her.

"Anna, after you flipped the car, it caught fire."

Anna looked up at him quickly. "How'd I get out? If it caught fire…"

He shrugged, leaning back again in the uncomfortable chair. "No one seems to know. Jeff tells me that the paramedics got a call from your cell phone, and they traced your location. One of them seems to recall a young man pulling you out of the wreckage, but you were the only person found, and there wasn't any sign of anyone else."

Anna blinked at him. "They found me outside the car?"

He nodded. "Apparently. I only got here a few hours ago and sent Jeff home. He's been worried about you."

Anna nodded, before her eyes started to try and close. Her Uncle's hand gently closed them for her. "Sleep. The doctors can look at you when you wake up."

 _...I knew I wouldn't be here if he hadn't tagged along…_

Anna was watching with her Uncle as Jeff and Danny pounded out the frame of the Impala two weeks later.

She'd defiantly vetoed the idea of scrapping the car for parts, maybe making a new car out of the parts, but she was determined to keep it the way it had been.

Her uncle had been weirdly quiet on the subject.

Bottom line was, she knew who had pulled her out of the car and gotten her help; it was the knowledge that she wouldn't be there snarking good naturedly with Jeff if Dean hadn't tagged along that night.

Anna knew how to repay her debts.

She was criticizing their work when Charlotte walked up with a ratty cardboard box.

"Anna." She said gently.

"Charlotte!" Anna greeted, getting gently down from the stool she'd been sitting on, still sore but better than she could have been.

Charlotte stopped and looked at the car. "What happened?"

Anna hitched a shoulder. "Me and Baby verses a deer. Guess who won?"

Charlotte stepped forward. "You're okay?"

Anna nodded. "I'm good. Just fixing her up."

Charlotte smiled, and then held out her hand to the figure Anna had felt walk up behind her. "Charlotte Mosely."

Her Uncle shook her hand politely. "Castiel."

Charlotte smiled, before handing the small box to Anna. "I found this stuff in the house, and it looks like it went with the car, so I figured I'd bring it over."

"Thanks." Anna said sweetly, taking the box. "I'll look through it and let you know."

Charlotte nodded, waved, and then walked away. Before she left the garage, she turned and gestured towards the car. "I told you I had the feeling you were meant to have this car. Word on the street is that you shouldn't have survived the crash, Deanna."

Anna just blinked at her in surprise as Charlotte walked away and out the door. Castiel put a hand on her shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Anna nodded, "Yeah. I just…I don't think I told her my full name."

Jeff walked up next to her, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "It was probably in the newspaper."

Nodding in tentative agreement, Anna put down the small box on the stool she'd been sitting on and pulled back the flap.

There were old manuals for the car, looking like the original specs from when the car had first been bought, and then several pictures of a young couple standing outside of the very house that Anna had gone to many months ago to buy the car, back before it had been falling apart. Only two words were written on the back: 'John and Mary'.

The box was full of pictures of old houses, cars, and even the Impala. A picture of someplace called "Singer's Salvage" with the words 'Sioux Falls, South Dakota', the older man from the first picture sitting on the hood of the Impala with two boys, and the blonde woman holding the same two boys. An old man with a beard and gray hair in a trucker's hat, a girl with red hair tapping away on a computer, and some Asian kid scribbling in a notebook.

Flipping through the pictures, she stopped when she came to a young guy, hand around his beer, smiling at the camera. He had long brown hair, facial scruff, and hazel eyes that Anna could tell would be deadly if he turned on the puppy face full force.

He looked happy.

One word was scribbled in the same handwriting from the note from the glove box so many months ago.

'Sammy 2014'.

Anna stared at the picture for a moment longer, before adding it to the pile, and then stopped.

The last picture showed several people leaning against the Impala, including 'Sammy' from the picture before and standing next to him, was the same vision Anna constantly saw in her shot gun seat, including the short blonde hair, plaid shirt, and blue jeans.

Nothing, however, prepared her for the shock at seeing her Uncle, not having aged at all, leaning next to her ghost, trench coat and all.

With shaking fingers, Anna flipped the picture over to see several words in Dean's blocky handwriting.

'Team Free Will: Sammy, Dean and Castiel. Family doesn't end in blood.'

Anna flipped the photo around. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"

Jeff and Danny looked up, and then left the garage, leaving Anna and Castiel on their own.

Castiel just blinked at her. "I think you already know the answer to your question."

She pointed to the man in the middle, not quite being able to handle the questions about her uncle just yet. "That's Dean."

Castiel nodded. "It's his car you are driving."

Anna shook the photo. "I've seen him. Sometimes. Riding shotgun."

Castiel smiled. "I imagine so. He was quite attached to his car."

"I think he's the one who pulled me out."

"I thought so too, especially once Jeff told me whose car you were driving."

Anna dropped back onto her stool. "Jeff knew?"

"Jeff was an old friend of Dean's. Apparently you almost gave him a heart attack when you had this car hauled here."

Anna worried her lip between her teeth. "What happened to him?"

Castiel just pinched his lips shut for a moment, before smiling gently at her. "He died, fighting for the world that would one day raise his daughter."

Anna frowned. "He had a daughter?"

Castiel stood up, brushing dust from his trench coat. "He did. He died making sure she'd be well looked after. Protected by a friend far more powerful than himself."

Anna stared at Castiel's blue eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about. She looked at the photo for a moment longer, before putting the photo back in the box with the others.

"So what happened?"

Castiel licked his lips and hitched a shoulder. "He had lost his brother, and his daughter was in danger of becoming a casualty of the life he was raised in and never wanted for her. Dean chose to go down fighting, making sure his child, his brother's niece, would grow up loved, safe, and happy."

Castiel moved to leave as Anna just sat there, staring at the husk of her car she was starting to realize had more history than she had ever imagined, He was almost at the door before Anna spoke up again.

"Was it worth it?"

Castiel turned to face his young charge, hands in his pockets. "It's hard to say. I'd say this was a test. And I think they did alright. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And isn't that kinda the whole point?"

Anna nodded, picking at her fingers. When she looked up, Castiel was gone, and she was left alone in a quiet garage.

Finally, she got up, and picked up the box again, noting a small book in the bottom she hadn't seen before when she'd been looking.

The paperback cover was worn, and the pages were yellowed with age, even torn slightly at the edges.

The book was titled _The Winchester Gospel_ written by Carver Edlund.

Flipping open the front cover, the block writing she recognized as Dean's read: ' _To my daughter Deanna- One day I hope you'll know how much your Uncle Sam and I loved you. Until then, live free, rock hard, and make your own destiny.- Dean Winchester._

Shutting the book softly, she gathered up her things, including the book, and headed into the back to see if she could get a ride home from Jeff.

Castiel watched young Deanna Winchester, the spitting image of her father, walk away. Shimmering slightly, Castiel's image changed from that of the angel to an older, grayer Chuck Shirley.

"Good luck, kid." He whispered to her retreating figure, before disappearing once again.

This time for good.


End file.
